


I'm Sure They're Proud

by aceschwarz222



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cemetery, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Tony Stark, Minor Character Death, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceschwarz222/pseuds/aceschwarz222
Summary: Every week when you visit your grandmother's grave you see a stranger visiting someone of his own. One day, he breaks down completely, and you decide to help comfort him.





	I'm Sure They're Proud

Whoever said it was rainy and dreary whenever people visited cemeteries was dead wrong, no pun intended. Whenever you went to visit your grandmother’s grave, it was always a bright, beautiful day. The sun shone in the sky, illuminating the bold colors of the bouquets left behind on various gravestones. The birds chirped a lovely song, and the wind rustled up enough of a breeze to make even the warmest weather seem comfortable. It really wasn’t fair that such beautiful days seemed to occur on your most miserable ones.

Losing your grandmother had been extremely difficult. She had raised you after your parents died when you were a kid. She was your everything, your rock, and now she was gone. Eventually, you were able to pick up the broken pieces of your shattered heart and move on. You still made it a point to visit her grave every week to tell her about your life. Even though you were pretty sure she was watching, it helped to talk it out with her. You told her about your new job, dumping your no-good boyfriend, and more. It was almost as if she was right there with you, guiding your next steps. 

You weren’t alone when you visited your grandmother. At first, you had hardly noticed the mysterious man visiting a grave a few rows down. However, it seemed that you two began visiting your respective relatives at the same time more and more. He was tall and had a shock of dark hair sticking every which way out of his head. He always wore these ridiculous purple tinted sunglasses and pin-striped suits, but who were you to judge? You had showed up decked out in your panda bear onesie after the particularly bad break up with your boyfriend. 

Every single time you had seen him, he had stoically stood in front of the grave. You couldn’t see his eyes underneath his sunglasses, but you imagined an intense gaze boring right through the smooth granite. You never heard him speak, never heard him acknowledge anyone. He stayed maybe ten or fifteen minutes at most and then left to go about his business.

Until today.

It was another ironically gorgeous day, and you had just finished telling your grandmother about your new volunteer gig at the animal shelter. You placed this week’s bouquet of carnations on top of her grave and promised to visit again next week to update her on the possibility of you taking home a cat after your next shift. 

You glanced over to check on your mysterious stranger as you began to make your way back to the entrance of the cemetery. Sure enough, he was there, just like every other week. But this time, something was different. 

He still wore a fancy suit that could easily pay your rent for half a year, and the silly purple sunglasses still sat on his face. However, his hands were not clenched at his sides like they normally were. His shoulders shook as he cried silently into his hands. If you hadn’t been paying close enough attention, you would have completely missed the scene in front of you. 

Sadness pooled in your stomach as you watched your stoic stranger fall apart a few rows away. You took one of the carnations off your grandmother’s grave.

“I’m sure you understand,” you whispered to the stone as you turned around to walk towards him. 

He heard the gravel crunch under your feet as you approached. He expected you to keep walking, but instead, you stopped. You gently placed a single pink carnation on top of the gravestone and stood next to him. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said softly, keeping your gaze forward. Reading the ornate cursive on the gravestone, you sucked in a breath of recognition at the names.

 

_ Here lies Howard and Maria Stark. _

_ Beloved husband and wife. _

_ Mother and father. _

 

“Thanks,” the man mumbled, wiping his face with a cloth from his suit pocket. 

You recognized his voice from the dozens of TV interviews you had seen with him. There was no doubt you were standing next to Tony Stark. Iron Man himself. 

“Were they your parents?” you asked, playing dumb.

Tony scoffed. “When they wanted to be.” He sighed and looked up at the sky. “Yeah, they were. They weren’t perfect, but they were mine. God knows I didn’t make it easy.”

You smiled and let out a small chuckle. “I’m sure they’re proud of you anyway,” you replied.

Tony choked back a sob and nodded. His face scrunched up and he pinched his nose as he tried to hold it together. One featherlight touch from you on his shoulder was enough to make him crumble. Heaving sobs surged through his body as he fell to his knees. 

_ Screw social conventions, _ you thought as you knelt down and wrapped your arms around him. You let him cry into your embrace as you became the stoic stranger for once. There was no judgement, no shame. Just you trying to contain the pure, raw emotions from consuming Tony completely. 

Eventually, the shuddering subsided, and the tears dried. Tony was too exhausted to be embarrassed of his meltdown. You released your hold on him, and you both sat in front of his parents’ grave.

“I always thought they’d died in a car crash,” he finally said. “But it turns out they were killed.” A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, but he held himself together.

“I’m so sorry,” you replied, not really sure what else to say. 

“The guy who did it...he, uh, didn’t mean to. At least, he had, um..” Tony swallowed thickly. “He had no control. And I know that.” He looked down at his hands. “I know that,” he whispered.

“But it’s still hard,” you finished.

“But it’s still hard,” Tony agreed. 

You both sat in silence for a few moments. Tony looked up to the sky again, and the sun sparkled against his purple frames. He stood up and straightened his suit jacket.

“Well, this has been fun,” he said, a bit of enthusiasm coming back into his voice. “But I’ve gotta, you know, save the world. Or something like that.” He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pant pockets. 

You smiled sadly as you stood up, recognizing the front he was putting up for you. He gave you one final nod and began walking away.

“Mr. Stark?” you called after him. He turned around, eyebrows raised at your use of his name.

“It’s okay to be sad or angry sometimes,” you said. “Even if you know the person who killed your parents couldn’t help it, or whatever. It’s still okay to be upset about it. They were still your mom and dad.”

He rocked back and forth on his heels as he considered your words, and for a second, you thought you had offended him. You breathed a sigh of relief when he gave you a small smile and a salute. You waved goodbye as he finally walked away for good. 

You looked down at his parents’ grave and smiled. “It was nice meeting you,” you said. “He’s doing some really awesome things for people who need help. You should be proud.” You stood in one last moment of silence before making your way home.

The next time you went to visit your grandmother, a red and gold rose sat delicately on top of her grave. 


End file.
